


(A)void

by The_Problematic_Blender



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Magic, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Post-Canon, Warlocks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Problematic_Blender/pseuds/The_Problematic_Blender
Summary: Agreeing to take down a corrupted, magical creature leads to mistakes being made.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> velf taako.docx
> 
> anything blizzard can write, i can write better.

Taako is not an elf of regrets. Or, that’s at least what he likes to tell himself.

But boy, he sure regrets volunteering to hold this damn crystal.

It was supposed to be an easy job, just absorb the corrupted magic of a being entirely made of energy into this magic crystal, and get paid. Magnus would widdle it down until it was weak enough to be absorbed, but until then, just avoid the inky blackness it threw at them. They had to get the corrupted magic contained, otherwise the magic would just go into the nearest person. Not exactly rocket science, really.

They weren’t really aptly prepared for the magical being looking more like a floating glyph than a creature, composed of solidified, indigo colored, magic fragments floating around a core, but here they were, dodging the corrupted magic it shot out at them in waves and beams. It didn’t help that the creature somehow knew that Taako was the one with the crystal, so it completely ignored Magnus in favor of trying to kill Taako.

“This is bullshit!” Taako cried as he rushed out of the way of the inky darkness that was the magic it shot at him.

“Don’t you have a spell to help Taako or something?” Magnus yells to Merle as he strikes at the creature with Railsplitter. The creature hums, pushing Magnus back.

“Uh,” Merle pages through the Extreme Teen Bible; he had cast Enhance Ability when it was clear that the creature was focusing on Taako, giving him the gracefulness of a cat. “I don’t think-”

Another beam shoots out towards Taako, and in Taako’s haste to not be hit with something the locals told them very vehemently not to be hit by, he trips over his own feet, forcing him to let go of the crystal so he can catch himself. The crystal skitters across the ground a couple feet away from where Taako had dropped it.

“You had one job, Taako!” Magnus exclaims, taking the shield off his back.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m being _shot at!”_ Taako spat. The creature notices the crystal that was now on the ground, and takes aim. Taako scrambles over to the crystal before the creature could destroy it, taking the glorified pale rock in his hands. Taako stops when his fingers brush over something that he didn’t notice before, and he turns it over to see a crack in the once perfectly formed crystal. Was that always there?

“Taako!” Magnus exclaims, and Taako is suddenly pulled from his thoughts to see Magnus standing between Taako and the creature, shield up, protecting Taako from the corrupted magic. Taako quickly gets on his feet and out of the way, making the creature relent it’s attack on Magnus’ shield to try and get Taako once again.

There’s a heavenly light from above, and Taako and Magnus look up to see the angelic Della Reese fly out from a portal of light, her eyes narrowed on the corrupted being. She flies towards it and slices some of the solidified magic, making the creature not cry out, rather, an unsettling music fill the room, filling everyone with dread. The creature turns and haphazardly shoots out the inky magic beam towards Della. The three watch with horror as the magic hits Della, and her screams are entirely unholy, the dark magic enveloping her form before there’s nothing left. There’s a bright light from the corrupting magic, and then Della is gone.

“Holy shit.” Merle breathes, saying the thoughts of everyone in the room. The creature turns back to Taako and the music in the room swells. Another beam of the corrupting magic, this time aimed at all three, who let themselves get back into close proximity after Della Reese came in. Magnus throws the Chance Lance towards the magic being after rolling out of the way the large beam of inky blackness it shot out, Taako and Merle barely able to dodge it themselves, just making it out of the magic’s path. The Chance Lance pierces the core of the being, and the music crescendos.

The crystal in Taako’s hands tugs towards the creature, and Taako, filled with a confidence that had all but dissipated earlier, walks towards the creature, holding up the crystal in front of him. The crystal begins to float a few inches from his hands, and Taako braces himself as the creature cries out in song, the dark magic siphoning out of the creature and into the crystal. The pure energy of it is powerful, making Magnus and Merle back up from the two while Taako stood firm.

Taako catches something from the corner of his eye, the crack in the crystal growing as the magic fills it. Shit. “Guys?” Taako says, worry in his voice as the crack grows. “I don’t think this crystal is gonna hold.”

“What?” Magnus asks, and the crystal makes an audible cracking sound, despite the loud music echoing in the room. “Shit, Taako-!”

Taako watches the crystal fracture, and then there’s an explosion of darkness.

* * *

**Yes, YES!**

Taako’s awakened by a voice and some prodding.

**A mortal! A mortal _entwined_ with magic!**

More prodding. More talking.

**And here I thought that you fools would actually do it,**

“C’mon Taako, give us something.” Merle says.

**sealing me away again,**

Taako groans, his head aching. Someone lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m fine.” Taako mumbles, just now realizing he’s on the ground.

**living a life of eternal damnation.**

“Can you quit monologuing?” Taako asks as he forces himself to open his eyes and sit up. Merle and Magnus are kneeling at either side of him, watching Taako with looks of worry and confusion. Magnus was holding the Chance Lance, and was probably poking at Taako with the blunt end to wake him up. “What?”

“You okay, Taako?” Magnus asks.

“I’m fine.” Taako repeats, voice firm. “What, you think ch’boy can’t handle a little magical explosion?”

“Well, neither of us were talking, and you’re, uh…” Magnus trails off, gesturing to Taako. Taako quirks an eyebrow and looks down at his body, and the other eyebrow goes up too.

**_Yes,_ see what you’ve become.**

His skin was that same indigo blackness the corrupted magic was.

**See what _we_ are!**

His own clothing were now shades of indigo and black.

**The Void is apart of you now!**

Parts of crystal had hit him in the explosion, lodging into his skin, with a purple liquid flowing from the wounds. Fuck, was that supposed to be his blood?

**Try out your newfound powers, you will enjoy feeling the strength the Void gives you.**

Taako quickly looks around the room, trying to figure out who the fuck was talking. The room was completely empty, save for the three of them.

**Let the Void take you.**

Taako clenches his fists, trying to stop the shaking in his hands.

_You’re just a voice in my head._

“We need to get this out of me.” Taako says, trying to keep his voice steady.

**No!**

“The sooner the better.” Taako continues, looking between Merle and Magnus.

“If we go back to the village, they’ll just kill Taako to get it out of him.” Merle points out.

“Then we won’t go back to the village.” Magnus says. “But someone out there has to know what to do, and we know someone who can figure it out.”

**You dare try to reject the gift of the Void?**

_Shut up!_

“You going to be okay, Taako?” Magnus asks again.

“Like I said, I’m fine.” Taako says. “We just… we gotta get this magic out of me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 11/18/18 - Reworked last part for setup for chapter three. It's a minor change, just to make chapter three seem less odd.

“I need a don’t ask, don’t tell favor. Right now.”

 _“Already turning that one in?”_ Barry’s voice comes from the stone. Angus worriedly glances around the bustling room, but no one pays him any mind. _“We’ll be even then.”_

“I know, just, I need you to come here as soon as possible.”

 _“What, accidentally summon something?”_ Barry asks. _“It happens to the best of us, kid, I’m sure you’ll be able to-”_

“I’m in a cult.”

Barry is silent on the other end, and Angus briefly worries if the call dropped before Barry says, _“I beg your pardon?”_

“I’m in a crypt a few miles northeast of Neverwinter. I was investigating something and I’m a bit over my head and they’re talking about corrupting a minor god.” Angus looks around the room again. “Please come help me.”

 _“I’ll be there as soon as I can,”_ Barry promises. _“Just keep your head down.”_

Angus tucks his Stone of Far Speech into his pocket and hides in the cultist robes he was given at the door. He was expecting a mostly empty crypt he could sneak through, not an entire gathering of people. He’s glad he thought ahead and armed himself.

“Warlocks of the Void!” A booming voice says over the noise, getting the attention of everyone in the room, Angus included. Atop a dais in the center of the room, a human woman in a dark cloak grinned ear to ear, purple tattoos inking her face. Next to her are a circle of warlocks, hoods pulled over their face. “Today is a proud moment for us, as we are about to use the Void as it is intended!”

The room erupts in cheers and applause. Fear creeps into Angus’ bones like the chill of the room. “For too long, have our powers been ignored. We will show Faerûn that we are something to be afraid of! Grom!” The woman turns to the circle of warlocks, one of them, a male orc, looks up. “Begin the summoning ritual!”

Dark magic begins to spread around the crypt room, swirling around and coming together over the summoning circle. Angus would need to do something to stall this, the fury that could be unleashed onto this world by a god would be unholy. Angus wouldn’t be able to Dispel Magic, he was not strong enough to dispel the power of several warlocks, and he was saving his scroll for a better use.

Angus quickly takes out his wand, muttering a quick spell, before putting his wand back in its holster. He reaches into the cult robes he was lended and grabs his collapsible light crossbow, unfolding it and loading a bolt he pulled from his quiver. Angus doesn’t want to kill anyone, so he just aims at the general direction of the dais, fires, and as fast as he can, folds up the crossbow and hides it in the robes, melding with the crowd with all the calm he can muster.

The ritual abruptly stops, some of the warlocks jumping in surprise as a crossbow bolt whizzes past them. “Who shot that!?” The woman exclaims, looking around the room. Usually, shooting a crossbow bolt would be easily trackable, but Pass Without Trace lets Angus get away with it without being noticed. It sure helped that everyone was dressed the same as well. “We have a traitor among us, find them at once!” She booms.

The room bursts into frenzy, the warlocks quickly turn on each other, cannibalizing each other in a way Angus was not expecting. Some people are more calm about it, just looking around, armed and ready, while someone hits another with a magic missile. 

A hand is placed on Angus’ shoulder, and Angus jumps, whipping his head around to see it was Barry, wielding a staff with his hood pulled over his head. “What part of keep your head down do you not understand?” Barry asks in a hushed voice, looking around the room.

“They were about to summon a deity, sir, I had to do something.” Angus justifies.

“It’s him!” Someone screeches, pointing at Barry, who stuck out like a sore thumb with his red colored robe among the tons of people in dark purple robes. “That one good lich! He’s here to stop us! And that guy helped him out!”

Angus can practically feel the smug grin on Barry’s face as everyone turns to look at them. Barry raises his free hand up. “Guilty as charged. Now, how about all the smart people get out of here and never come back, so the not so smart ones can try and fail to take down one of the most powerful liches in Toril.”

One cultist actually bolts out of the room, unable to get out of the crypt fast enough. A few more follow, which makes the leader anger. “Thirty of us, against two of you? We can take you just fine.”

Barry shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Barry raises his staff and blasts the cultists in front of them back. Once there’s no warlock cultists near the two, he casts another spell, a blinding light filling the room. It takes Angus’ eyes a while to adjust to the bright light, having to squint to see much of anything. What he does see is a large, shimmering wall, separating him and Barry from the cultists. It glowed with bright light and shined with every color of the rainbow.

“Prismatic Wall.” Angus quietly gasps. A ninth level spell that can devastate a battleground; it blinds, it petrifies, and it damages anyone who tries to move through it. He’s never seen a ninth level spell be cast person before.

“I thought it could be useful.” Barry replies, before tightening the grip of his staff. “If you’re so tough, come and get me!”

Barry’s goad works, as many warlocks blindly rush through the wall, causing instant death to every single one of them that moves through it. Angus will admit, it’s a horrific sight, but the alternative is much less desirable. Angus turns to Barry as he takes off the cultist robes he wore to blend in. “Thank you for helping me, sir.”

“It’s no problem.” Barry says. “Besides, this world could do with less cultists.”

Most of the cultists die from the Prismatic wall. A few realized what was going on and blindly went for the exit with varying degrees of success. Once the cultists are either gone or dead on the ground, Barry takes down the magic wall, causing for another jarring adjustment to the light in the room, back to only being lit by a few paltry torches.

“I’d like to declare this cult, disbanded.” Barry remarks with a hint of pride. Angus doesn’t reply, he’s busy looking over the bodies. While they were all dressed in the same cloaks and robes, he didn’t see the cult leader or any of the summoners in the carnage. With a frown, Angus takes hold of his crossbow once again, they weren’t going down that easily.

Angus sees movement out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly throws open the crossbow with nothing but just the force of an abrupt stop of his arm, takes aim, and fires the bolt. He hits a summoner, a tiefling surrounded in an almost unnatural darkness (presumably what she was relying on to keep her hidden), square in the chest.

“Or... maybe I spoke too soon.” Barry reassesses, smug pride slipping away to reveal the practiced caution of a man that spent over a century being hunted down.

“With all due respect, sir, you absolutely did spoke too soon.” Angus loads another crossbow bolt.

“I’m nearly two centuries old, and I still have yet to learn when not to speak.”

“Sir, I’m confident you will one day.”

“...Are you mocking me, kid?”

“Still as astute as ever, sir,” Angus can’t tell if his eyes are still adjusting, or if the darkness of the room is growing, but he knows which one is the likely answer. “maybe that could help us here.”

Barry seems to catch on to what Angus is indirectly referring to, noticing how dark the room has gotten. “Really? Magical darkness?” Barry criticized. “Have you ever fought a lich before?” Angus remembers that time he read that liches are arrogant, so much so that they have a problem perceiving threat until it proves to be a force to be reckoned with. He’d make a comment on it if he wasn’t trying so hard to hear any sort of clue to where the warlock cultists were in the shadows.

Something is thrown from the shadows, skittering to a stop in front of the two. Barry grimaces and takes a step back as a soft light emits from it. “Being a paladin has it perks.” A man says from the shadows. “I’m sure you don’t want to discard your mortal body with this out.” For the life of him, Angus can’t figure out what direction the voice is coming from.

“Sir, how reliant on magic are you?” Angus asks, turning to look at Barry.

Barry tears his eyes away from the holy symbol to meet Angus’ gaze. “I don’t need it to fight, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Angus nods and reaches into the messenger bag at his side, looking blindly for what he needed. “He’s grabbing something!” One of the cultists shouts from the shadows, behind him, Angus realizes. Angus spins on his heels and fires the crossbow bolt blindly into the darkness. There’s either a surprised noise or a pained noise in response, maybe both, and Angus takes that as a little victory before he goes back to digging through his bag.

Angus finds what he’s looking for as three Magic Missiles shoot out from the darkness, at least, Angus thinks it’s Magic Missile, the magic making up the missiles is a dark indigo. Before Angus can react to them, a translucent pale red separates him and the Magic Missiles, harmlessly dissipating them when they hit the Shield spell. Angus looks to Barry as he takes out the scroll container and thumbs off the cap to it. Barry is watching the shadows, his staff charged with magic, despite the strain he must have to endure to cast with a holy symbol glowing with holy magic just feet away from him.

Angus dumps the scroll out into his empty hand, his crossbow now on the ground next to him so he can properly unfurl it. Looking down at the scroll, he realizes that the darkness is growing rapidly, already encroaching at their feet and rising up. “Angus.” Barry warns, and Angus hears Barry try and fail to cast a high level spell.

Angus speaks the words of the spell scroll he had brought with him, just in case he needed it, and the magic lifts off the scroll and into the room. The darkness dispels, pushed back ten feet away from Angus. He grins, crumpling up the now useless paper and putting it back into his bag.

Barry looks… confused, possibly surprised. “Why do you have an eighth level spell scroll?”

“Professors will do anything to pawn grading papers onto someone else.” Angus replies, picking up his crossbow again. Magic hammers at the Antimagic Field, unable to pass through. “No more hiding in the shadows!”

Angus is taken off guard by a sudden charge from the orc summoner. He is also taken off guard by Barry intercepting the charge; jumping between the two and bracing himself for the hit. Angus is shocked to see that Barry only takes one step back before pushing back with a stronger force, using his staff to do so.

A halfling man rushes into the Antimagic Field and towards Angus with a dagger in hand. Angus goes to fire his crossbow before realizing that he never loaded it after his last shot, a small mistake that’s going to cost him. He collapses the crossbow, hoping the wood with metal plated joints could act as a club. The halfling lunges for his throat, and Angus gives a haphazard swing towards him once the halfling was close enough, and Angus manages to whiff it, barely just hitting the halfling’s hand and knocking the knife out of the loose grip he had it in.

Angus and the halfling jerk their heads to watch the dagger flip through the air and embed itself into the the abdomen of a elven man that was planning on joining in the fray of the fight before accidentally stabbed.

“Sorry!” Angus and the halfling exclaim in unison, which makes something click together in Angus’ head. 

“You’re Topher, from world history class.” Angus says, turning to the halfling. He didn’t recognize his classmate earlier, too preoccupied with making sure that dagger wasn’t going to end up in him.

It’s clear Topher recognizes Angus as well, and he doesn’t meet Angus’ gaze. No, he’s not avoiding Angus, he’s looking for something, someone, past Angus and into the shadows. It’s a few seconds of searching before Topher’s eyes meet Angus’. “Don’t let her live.” Topher says, and then he turns and runs back into the shadows, and presumably out of the crypt. Angus concludes that he’s talking about the cult leader as he reloads his crossbow as quickly as possible.

Angus nearly jumps at the sound of a sudden _thud_ behind him, and he turns to see that, somehow, Barry has thrown the orc to the ground. Angus is shocked, yes, Barry classified as a fighter, but Angus never really thought that the necromancer could actually… well, beat an orc in a strength contest. “Who’s left?” Barry asks, looking to Angus.

“How am I supposed to-” Angus here’s something moving behind him, and he turns, but he’s a second too late to do anything other than be knocked to the ground by a human man that was way too beefy to be just a warlock. “The paladin is left.” Angus corrects himself, hissing in pain.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t hurt him.” Barry says to the paladin.

“And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t murder all my friends, but here we are.” The paladin retorts.

“Surely they weren’t all your friends.” Barry replies. “I did kill a lot of them, after all.”

That angers the paladin, and he rushes Barry like he did to Angus, but Barry was expecting that, sidestepping out of the way and hitting the paladin in the ribs with his staff when he passes by. “Why did you forsake your oath?” Barry asks. Where was he going with this?

“Why does it matter to you, lich?” The paladin spats.

“I’m curious.” Barry answers, pointing out, “It’s a lich’s nature to pursue knowledge.”

“Well, it’s not your business!” The paladin snaps, charging again. Barry clicks his tongue in distaste as he moves out of the way, giving the paladin another hit with his staff as he barrels past.

“What is your plan here?” Barry asks. “You’re not really good with this whole hitting me thing.”

The paladin gives pause to that, glancing around. Angus has barely recovered from getting the wind knocked out of him before he is forcibly hauled to his feet, a sword pressed daringly against his throat. “You really need to stop goading them, sir.” Angus says, looking at Barry from his position as a hostage.

“Quiet!” The paladin yells, emphasizing his words by pressing the sword in a little more. Angus complies, as he likes his throat being one continuous piece of skin.

“C’mon, don’t do this.” Barry’s smug and arrogant demeanor has dropped now that something is actually at risk here. “He’s just a kid.”

“He helped you murder everyone!” The paladin exclaims. He’s in shock, Angus realizes. He probably didn’t realize what was at stake here.

“And you guys were going to try to enslave a god. Do you know how many more lives could have been loss with that?”

The paladin doesn’t respond. Angus notices that his hand is shaking.

“Are you afraid of her?” Angus’ voice is just barely loud enough to be a whisper. “We can stop her, I promise. You don’t have to be afraid of her anymore.”

Angus would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid. His heart was pumping hard and the sword against his throat makes him reluctant to swallow. There’s a shake forming in his own hands, and he’s not sure if he’s going to be alive to give his client any information at the end of the night, but his whole life has been filled with courageous people acting in spite of the risk of their lives. The least he could do was pretend to be someone like that. Someone with courage, someone risking their life to help another.

Angus notices how the shadows outside the Antimagic Field are now encompassing the entire room, making it impossible to see outside the field. “She’s doing this, isn’t she?” Angus continues in that quiet voice. “We can make sure more lives aren’t lost. We can stop her.”

The paladin mumbles something under his breath.

“What?” Angus asks.

Angus is taken off guard by the sword being removed from its threatening position against his neck, and he’s pushed to the ground before he can properly process what’s going on. Barry is at Angus’ side as there’s a sickening sound of sword cutting through flesh from behind them.

“Don’t look. You don’t want to see that.” Barry warns Angus as he helps him up. “You okay?”

Angus nods. “I’ll be fine.” He clenches his fists to try to cease the shaking in his hands.

“I must say,” A woman says. The cult leader. Angus looks to the ground and finds his crossbow, now a bit bloodied. “I didn’t think you could actually manage to ruin things this much.”

Angus bends down and picks up his crossbow, eyes now on the shadows surrounding them, just ten feet away in all directions. “It seems I have two options; die with these fools here, and let all my hard work wash away, or I could declare you two victorious now.”

She was going to run, Angus realizes. That’s going to be bad. “Don’t be a coward!” Angus exclaims, trying to bait her into staying.

The woman chuckles, and it’s something unsettling, seemingly coming from all directions . “I can’t face the two of you without magic, and I rather not wait the fifty or so minutes for the shield to come down so I can face one of the world’s most proficient necromancers. So, I must concede.”

“We will find you.” Barry assures.

“Oh, I’m planning on it, lich.” The woman says, and the shadows start receding into one point, as if they were being sucked in. All that ends up being left is a shadowy silhouette, which evaporates just as quickly, and then there’s nothing but the crypt room. The bodies that were outside the Antimagic Field are now gone, a chilling thing to think about, in all honesty.

“We have to find her.” Angus says, turning to Barry.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure a bounty gets on her head.” Barry promises. “Attempting to bend a God to your will is something that will put a hefty price on her soul. She’ll be brought to justice.”

Angus sighs, folding up his crossbow and putting it in it’s holster. He thinks of Topher, hoping he’ll be safe. “Thank you.” Angus’ eyes fall on Barry’s staff. “I never thought of you as someone to wield a staff, sir.” Angus comments.

“Neither did I, but a quartermaster gifted it to me as a thank you, and I thought I could use it`.” Barry answers, looking over the dark oak of the staff. “Someone had tricked a bunch of adventurers into getting the supplies needed to unleash an army of the undead on a port city, and oh boy, was that a mess.”

“Sounds like you handled it well, though.”

Barry lets out a short laugh. “That’s what Lup would say. I’d say that we stopped necromantic damnation of an entire city by the skin of our teeth. Now, care to tell me why you infiltrated a warlock cult?”

Angus grins a sheepish grin. “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“I’m gonna need the bare minimum of a motivation here, kid.” Barry says, shifting on his feet. “Not askin’ for details.”

Angus is silent as he weighs his options. “I was asked to investigate something for a client that wished for anonymity. My investigation lead me here.”

“What could you be investigating that leads you to a warlock cult?” Barry asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Void magic.”

Barry sighs. “I was hoping that wasn’t the answer.”

“Why? Do you know what it is?” Angus asks in surprise. “I could barely find anything on it, I was hoping that there would be books on it in this crypt.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s not a… prevalent thing on Faerûn, but I’ve been places where it has been.”

“Would you care to tell me about it?” Angus asks.

“I dunno, kid,” Barry says. “if these guys are actually Void warlocks, then I don’t want this information getting out again.”

“I can promise that my client isn’t a warlock, and doesn’t intend to make a pact with a patron.” Angus affirms.

Barry hums with thought.

“I am not too old to use puppy dog eyes, sir.”

“You’re nearly my height.” Barry snorts, turning to the exit of the large gathering room. “C’mon, let’s see if this crypt has a library for you.”

The two walk down the dark corridor, only the occasional torch sconce lighting their way. Angus had dispelled the Antimagic Field now that the cultists were no longer an issue. “One of the earlier years… maybe late teens, early twenties…” Barry starts. “I got separated from the others. A pretty bad storm came out of nowhere while we were flying, and I happened to be on the deck when it happened. I fell off the deck and by some strange luck, I managed to land in a lake.

“I woke up soaked and freezing on the shore, rescued by some people I’d soon learn were apart of a community of warlocks of the Void. They gave me shelter from the storm, and while I was very thankful of their kindness, I knew well enough not to trust the creepy people in robes in a small, recluse village on a lake. They asked me why I fell out of the sky, and I feigned amnesia about everything that wasn’t my name.”

“Were they… aggressive?” Angus asks.

“Towards me? No, but we’d dealt with aggressive villagers before, and I still valued self preservation at that point.” Barry answers. “Anyways, they sort of took me into their fold, and I learned more about them. They were a group of warlocks that were banished from the capital city, as their patron was deemed too dangerous. They thought that was unfair.”

“What makes it dangerous?”

“The Void is a corrupting patron. I watched it both consume life, and meld with it.”

Angus sees something move out of the corner of his eye, making him stop, turn, and nod to the left side of the dark room they just entered, hand wavering over his wand holster. “There’s something over there.”

Barry stops and grips his staff. “Those are just rats.”

“Oh-”

In one swift motion, Barry grabs Angus by the shoulder and pulls him out of the way, raising his staff and freezing the cultist that was sneaking up behind Angus with a dagger in hand. Angus’ eyes widen, hit with the realization that he almost just died. “That, however, was a person.” Barry remarks.

“Thank you, sir.” Angus says, eyes locked on the frozen solid cultist. “How did you know he was there?”

“Liches can feel magic from other beings. Wizards are only noticeable when they cast spells, while sorcerers let off sort of a… for a lack of a better term, a low hum. Warlocks are always a coin toss with when you sense them, especially if you don’t know to look for them, or even what you’re looking for.” Barry approaches the frozen warlock, tapping the now frozen statue a few times with the end of his staff. “But like I said before, the Void corrupts life. Making a pact with it corrupts you with the dark magic. The question is not if you can control it or not, it’s how long you can control it without going insane.”

“You can control it though?” Angus asks, tearing his gaze away to look at Barry. There’s worry and fear in his expression, despite Barry’s attempt to maintain a neutral one. “I mean, the warlocks on the lake sounded like they were doing fine.”

Barry raises his staff once again, silent as he shatters the frozen warlock into hundreds of ice shards. Angus is smart enough to realize he struck a nerve. Several moments of silence pass, and Barry sighs. “A month or so after they took me in, screaming woke me up one night, this blood curdling scream. Everyone in the little cabin I was allowed to stay in ran out to see what was going on, and I saw this abomination of Void and man, absolutely _laying_ into a warlock with Void magic. It was a horrific image that is still, to this day, burned into my mind.”

Barry looks at Angus, expression solemn and serious. “Five people sacrificed their lives to kill the abomination. Seven people in total were lost that night. The day after, I learned that they are constantly battling whispers, tempting them into letting the magic they use take over them and using them as a vessel to corrupt other living beings with the Void. A person would succumb to these thoughts every couple of months or so.

“Angus, I want you and whoever you’re investigating for to know that the Void poisons everything it comes in contact with. Whatever your client wants with this information, make sure they know how damning the Void is. You will live and die by its terms.”

Angus feels guilt wringing his heart out like a sponge, but he nods and keeps his mouth shut.

“Now, we were going to find a book, were we not?”

* * *

Angus is getting ready for class next morning when his Stone of Far-speech lights up with a chime. Strange, it’s a little early for people to be calling him, and his client won’t be contacting him until later this evening about the information he recovered. Angus eyes the dusty tombs on his desk he can’t wait to page through as he walks to his nightstand, picking up his Stone. “Angus McDonald, world’s greatest detective speaking.”

 _“Ango, buddy,”_ Magnus’ voice comes from the other end, greeting him.

“Oh. It’s.. quite a surprise to hear from you, sir.” Angus replies. It wasn’t odd for him to get calls from people wanting some detective work done, but hearing from Magnus was unexpected. “What’s the occasion?”

 _“I need a favor.”_ Magnus says, and Angus picks up on the worry in Magnus’ voice. _“I need you to research something for me.”_

“What about?”

_“Void magic.”_

**Author's Note:**

> liek and comment or ill write all my fics with this shit grammar mkays,? thx


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